


Back To the Low

by Wolfgang von Cemetery (enemy_xands)



Series: Queens of the Desert Underground [1]
Category: Lucha Underground, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Desert, Gen, Hallucinations, Hints of bromance, Kayfabe Compliant, Mild Spoilers, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5844922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enemy_xands/pseuds/Wolfgang%20von%20Cemetery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Vampiro have an invitation back to the Temple, but what will it cost them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back To the Low

**Author's Note:**

> I've been itching to do some LU fic for a looong ass time but never could find a decent point to insert myself, you know?
> 
> Since season 2 literally just started I didn't want to really speculate on anything just yet just wanted a little supernatural piece. I was so hyped to see Vamp and Matt back at the table like Ultima Lucha never happened lmao. What bros!

_That has drained my life so low..._

The phone in the kitchen rang; Matt covered his face with a throw pillow. He stared at the embroidered underside and waited for the annoying chirps to silence.

It was so quiet in his apartment that he could hear the sunbeams stretching across the floor. When the caller gave up, Matt sat up and ran a sweaty hand through greasy hair.

He needed some lunch. He needed water, actually. With the thought of juice and a sandwich in mind, he headed for the kitchen.

No message? Musta been spam. He pulled a loaf of bread from the fridge--wide pan--and grabbed a spoon, some jelly, and peanut butter. He spread thick but even layers on each bread slice and cut diagonally for triangles. He dusted the crumbs off his fingers and rummaged around in the fridge for juice or some kind of faux dairy product.

The phone ringing again almost made him bust his head on the door handle. He took his time pouring a glass of coconut milk. They had to give up eventually, right?

A sudden thought seized his mind and made his vision blurry.  His chest tightened and he felt like he wasn't in control of his hands anymore. What if? What if...?

"Hello?"

"Mr Striker." The woman on the other end sounded young but confident. "We were unable to leave a message, your inbox is full."

He leaned against the counter. "How can I help you?"

"The patient, Ian Hodgkinson, is ready for pick up at two-thirty."

"That's an hour out. I'm pretty far away, was I his only contact?"

"He requested you," she said curtly.

She gave Matt the details and he scribbled them on a notepad. She hung up not a beat after her final syllable.

In a way, losing his mind had made Va...no. Ian. It had made Ian safe. Who knew what dark corner Vampiro was lurking in.

One thirty-five. He'd need to get a move on if he was going to be on time.

 

~~~

 

Ian would be lying of he said he wasn't surprised Matt actually showed up, with a sweet ass new ride at that. He ran his finger tips over the exterior and whistled.

"Dope. Where'd you get it?"

Matt snorted. "The Devil."

One way or another, Ian knew he wasn't bullshitting.

They sat in the sun in silence for a few minutes, Matt's eyes unreadable behind his aviator shades and Ian abnormally focused on his prescription directions.

"Vamp. We have an...open invitation back to the temple."

Ian let his head roll back. "God. Would you really go back to that madness?"

Matt shrugged. "You can't say we didn't have good times."

"I..." Ian stopped himself. Why couldn't he say it? That he was worried about their safety? Their lives? His sanity?

"If you don't mind me playing psychiatrist, I think you need to go back."

"Supposed to be avoiding that shit," Vampiro muttered. "Let the past die so I can move on."

Matt finally started the car up. "That has never in the history of anything ever worked."

They swerved out of the dusty stretch of land that served as parking, in search of the main road out.

"You want me to go back and face my demons?"

"I want you to sit at that table with me and make some new ones."

Ian allowed himself a smile. "I knew I called the right one. So where am I crashin'?"

"With me for now, we'll figure something else out in the morning."

The hour long drive felt longer going that coming in, and by the time they'd reached Matt's modest house the blue sky was starting to bleed orange and red.

Ian had fit most of his belongings, including a change of clothes, into a large plastic bag. Matt volunteered his services to laundry and offered a few of his own shirts. Ian respectfully declined.

He spent the next few hours on the couch, still in his scrubs, channel surfing until he was pretty sure his eyes were going to pop out of his skull. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he stopped on a cooking program.

"I'm gonna raid the fridge," he announced.

"'Kay."

Ian poked his head in the fridge, then the freezer. Between the two, there was a handful of TV dinners, some beer, PB&J, and assorted condiments. Shit, what a bachelor. He settled on something to microwave and a beer.

He crossed the space from the fridge to the stove mounted microwave in a few strides. While he waited, he used first his teeth then the counter to open his bottle, but no dice.

"You prick, where's your bottle opener?"

"Top drawer, sugarfoot."

Ian opened the drawer to an array of spare streak knives and utensils. He carefully plucked out the bottle opener, but it was a large black card nestled among the forks and spoons that caught his attention.

He pulled that out, too. The card was matte black with a strange symbol embossed on the front. When he flipped it over, there was writing, exquisite, purposeful cursive writing, and blood stains.

 

~~~

 

Matt was used to spooky shit, so when Catrina teleported into his bed room he only screamed a little.

She smirked down at him, dangerous.

"Death is calling for you," she hissed. "Will you answer it?"

"Not this day."

Matt was aware of how sweaty and tired he was, and how grimey he must look. And how nude under the blankets. The dark woman in front of him straddling his waist didn't help matters. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

She chuckled at his joke. "Then when? We are waiting for you...both of you."

Matt's blood chilled. "Both...? I wouldn't--I can't, I haven't seen Vampiro in months."

"You will retrieve him."

"I am not going to put him in that shit again! He's...my partner. My friend."

Catrina caressed his face with one long nail, eased back painfully slow. "Do you really think those doctors can heal his scarred mind?"

Matt closed his eyes. "I don't know."

"Face it, this life is all he knows. If you take him out, he has no purpose."

Matt felt a sharp pain in his arm. When he looked down he saw a black postcard embedded in his flesh. He winced and pulled it out, swearing.

"Why me? Why do I have to--what makes you so sure _I'm_ coming?"

Her form slowly faded into thin air until only her voice remained.

"Because you both simply can't help yourselves."

 

~~~

 

Matt came down with a basket of laundry, Ian's folded neatly on top. He peeped in the kitchen and saw Ian eating absently and staring at the invite.

" _Pinche Vampiro_."

Ian jolted a little. "Christ, you scared me."

"What do you think?"

Ian shrugged. "Is it even up to me?"

"Nah." Matt dropped the clothes on the couch. "Just..."

"What's holding us back, man?

"Anxiety."

Ian nodded quietly and finished up his dinner and beer. He gestured to the fridge with the empty bottle.

"Ya hungry?"

"Not really. Tired."

"Aww, honey I was gonna cook."

He laughed at that and headed upstairs with his basket. "Might be going to sleep soon. Can you entertain yourself?"

Ian headed back to the couch. "Do you get porn channels?"

Matt yelled from the top of the stairs. "I swear, if I see one Brazzers charge I'm kicking your ass to Oregon."

"Take that as a no," Ian muttered. He continued channel hopping until his eyes grew heavy and he dozed off.

_Ya hungry?_

Who said that? His sleep was broken. He looked around but he knew no one was there. He let his eyes slip closed again but the thoughts continued.

_Your hunger...won't be sated._

No, no. The drugs were supposed to stop all this.

_Your hunger won't be stopped._

His very blood was restless, telling him to get up, run out into the night and never stop. He settled for pacing around and squeezing his fists.

_Go to him_

He glanced at the staircase.

_GO!_

He pulled himself upstairs. It was dark with only the moonlight lighting his way. The soft sound of a TV drew him to one of the closed doors.

He gently pushed it open and it gave with no noise. The TV cast a blue glow on the bed and walls, illuminated Matt's heaving chest in slumber.

_Gaze_

Ian stood at the edge off the bed, staring. Could Matt sense his presence? He wasn't stirring, didn't even move when he sat down in the bed.

_He's ready_

Ungraceful, thick fingers rubbed over the scruff on his cheeks then onto the smooth neck below. His pulse thumped against his fingertips and he was warm, so warm.

_Feast on him_

He must have made a noise because Matt blinked, then sat up. The covers slowly fell away from his chest and looked in his lap. He laughed and ran a hand down his face.

"Oh man, what a night to sleep naked..." When he saw Ian's face, his brows furrowed. "Vamp? What's wrong, bro?"

"I don't know. I'm hearing shit."

"Unsurprising."

"Bad shit, man."

"You need to talk?" Matt swung his legs out, still covering his modesty with a blanket.

Ian shook his head. "I better not. Just calls em in."

Matt nodded understandingly. He got up, finally letting the blankets drop from his waist and trail behind him on his way to the bathroom connected to his bedroom. He muttered "sorry bout that" over his shoulder and pushed the door closed.

He'd been so grimey lately and it disgusted him. Rolling around in fitful sleep and no matter how he set the thermostat always sweat and dirt under his nails and embedded in his skin. He hated the feel of the cotton on his skin but without it he felt exposed.

Matt splashed water on his face and felt around for his towel. He looked up in the mirror just in time to see white-faced, black-eyed Vampiro grab a fistful of his hair and yank his head back, sink his teeth into his neck so violently that the blood spurted all over the mirror, the sink, and the floor.

The blood was so warm, so good and salty in his mouth; Vampiro felt more alive than he had in months. Matt's head fell from his hands and the edge of his forehead hit the sink with a sickening crack. He was laughing, gurgling, blood spilling from his mouth onto his white shirt.

His fist connected once, twice, three times until it shattered, and he howled, glass embedded in his knuckles.

Ian awoke with a start and a groan that turned into a yell and pitched up into a scream.

"Vamp?"

Matt was hobbling downstairs on feet that weren't quite awake. Ian almost yanked the door off the handles and ran out into the balmy night.

_Go to him_

The voices were growing louder; he pounded his fists into his head.

"Stopstopstop--"

_GO!_

A black wave stopped him dead in his tracks. The shape was vaguely feminine in nature, sauntered around him like a taunt.

"Do you think you can run? Neither of you are fast enough to escape fate."

Ian felt hands hook under his armpits and pull him back. Matt, naked and warm against his back, panting in a way that would have been obscene otherwise.

"This is exactly why we have to go back. We can't run anymore."

"I was never running," Ian countered sharply.

"I was."

"There's nothing to be afraid of!"

"Do you know what we almost lost back there!" Matt yelled. Ian wiggled out of his grasp and turned around.

"I know fuckin' well. Dude, I can't take you seriously with your balls swinging in the wind."

Matt tried to cover himself but realized there was nowhere to hide.

"But you get me."

"Yeah." 

 

~~~

Vampiro was lucky but Matt supposed be couldn't be much more saner if he was going along with this again.

But his co-host got it right. "What else would we do?"

"We can't help ourselves," Matt said lowly. He slid his aviator shades on. "From what I understand...it's become a much darker place."

Vampiro smiled. "Then let's get going."

 

 

 


End file.
